


Friction in Filmmaking

by thebaddestwolf



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaddestwolf/pseuds/thebaddestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things start to go awry on take four, when the director wants them to heat things up a bit, increase the passion with firmer caresses and louder sighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friction in Filmmaking

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: Help I woke up from a David/Billie dream and I need it to be a thing but I'm not good at writing this kind of subject. They were filming a sex scene for a Pete's World spinoff series and she has a real orgasm cause he's grinding against her. I know if I at least set it free in your askbox it just might spark someone's muse. :D

Billie’s stomach has been in knots for weeks before shooting begins, insides clenching every time she thinks about the venture on which they’re about to embark. What was once a throwaway line to appease fans at a convention has somehow become a reality, one that neither she or David saw coming until meetings were scheduled and contracts were drawn up. 

It was a chapter in their lives that they’d never planned to revisit — the Doctor and Rose… her and him. She thought they’d closed the book but apparently they’d merely dog-eared the page, stacking shows and plays and marriages and kids between them and then, suddenly, having to pick up where they left off. 

Of course it doesn’t help that things ended a bit ambiguously, both for her and David and the Doctor and Rose. The latter of which will be sorted out in the series, a twelve-episode project that will give fans a glimpse inside their characters’ happily ever after. 

But with David things are still a bit fuzzy. He’d never quite looked at her the same after her marriage and the timing wasn’t great, filming the beach scene of Journey’s End right after she’d come back from her Mexican honeymoon with her husband’s name branded on her arm. 

She thinks he may have been remembering the last scene they filmed on that bloody beach years prior, when he held her in his arms and lead her to his trailer, finally being with her in the way she’d been after for months. And it’s her fault how things wound up — she shouldn’t have let it linger, but it was so easy and natural and he felt so damn  _good_. 

Now here they are about to film the pilot of the new series and, as often happens with production schedules, they’re starting with the last scene first. It’s not a sex scene, exactly, but it will be the first for the Doctor and Rose — snogging with tongues, and horizontally. 

David’s been by her side all morning and it’s almost like it used to be, flirty touches and playful laughter and snide comments hotly whispered in each other’s ears. It doesn’t take long for her nerves to transform into something else, a tug low in her stomach that she bets wouldn’t be quite so strong had her husband not been out of town all week. 

It’s exciting, though, and she hasn’t felt this way in ages, so she shrugs and goes with it, knowing no one will be the wiser. Besides, David’s acting like his old self, from before she’d fucked things up, so it makes sense to ride these flirtations out if it means she finally gets her friend back.

"Who’d have thought we’d ever see Rose Tyler in yoga pants," he says, sauntering over to her when the hair stylists are finally done with him.

"They’re leggings," she laughs, dipping her thumb under the waist and pulling on it before letting the elastic snap back against her skin. "And who’d have thought we’d ever see the Doctor in jeans. Come on, give us a twirl!"

He does and she lets her gaze wander, unable to resist reaching out to tap his bum.

"Was that the Piper smack of approval?" he asks, right eyebrow raised high.

"Just giving you a test drive. If this is meant to be an accurate portrayal of the Doctor and Rose’s life together there certainly has to be some ass-grabbing."

"By both parties, I reckon."

He steps closer as his eyes drift down her body and time skips for a moment, bringing them back to a period when they’re both young and unattached and looking forward to sneaking away together during the lunch break. The tension in Billie’s stomach builds and she swallows thickly.

"Hiya, sorry to interrupt, but they’re ready for you on set," says a too-cheery PA, succeeding in jarring them from the past. 

David shakes his head almost imperceptibly, but she catches it, and then offers her a smile and his hand. 

"Let’s go finish what we started on that beach."

***

Kissing scenes have never phased her and they can even be enjoyable when done with a good friend, but as David settles down on top of her the tug in her stomach tangles with the nerves and manifests as a long, high-pitched giggle. 

"Oh, come on, Bills," he laughs, shaking her shoulders. "We’ll never get through this if you’re losing it before we even start."

"Sorry," she gasps, before breaking off into another peel of giggles. "It’s just so bizarre — this whole situation. I can’t wrap my head around it."

"I know, me neither. But you don’t need to wrap your head around it." He releases her shoulder to tug on her right knee, bringing to rest over his hip. "Just your legs."

"This Doctor really is a different man, isn’t he?" She swats at his chest. "This is nice, though."

"Mm." He shifts, aligning his position with the camera, and Billie holds her breath as she feels the pressure from his fly. "It is nice. The Doctor and Rose pashing on the sofa, just like old times."

She raises her eyebrows, surprised that he’s bringing up their former antics, especially when he’s lying on her like this. A wave of panic passes over his face as he realizes her interpretation of his comment.

"I just mean that, it’s not like they didn’t snog all the time before, on sofas in the TARDIS. You remember — we used to talk about that. All the things they were getting up to that weren’t written into the script."

"Right, of course," she smiles and strokes his arm. "They were naughty, those two. And this time around we’ll be able to give a more realistic portrayal of what was happening."

David’s shoulders relax and he grins, shifting again and making her wince. 

"Oh shit, am I crushing you?"

"No, you’re good," she says, letting out a quiet breath. "Lucky for me this sofa’s comfy."

***

The first few takes are a breeze. He’s as good of a kisser as ever and her lips will definitely be chapped by morning, and she’s surprised to realize that’s a welcome thought.

The tension in her abdomen is pleasant and manageable, a feeling she’s sure will stick around until the evening when she’ll have a chance to remedy it.

Things start to go awry on take four, when the director wants them to heat things up a bit, increase the passion with firmer caresses and louder sighs. 

Somehow David interprets this direction as a call to move his hips, and Billie’s voice catches in her throat as the seam of his trousers presses into her with increasing friction. The director chastises her after that take for being even quieter than before and she’s so flushed and flustered all she can do is apologize before the cameras are rolling again.

David seems to like his new approach and he continues rutting into her, making Billie curse this new casual Rose Tyler and her penchant for leggings. She decides it’s best to go with it, gasping each time his fly moves over her clit and biting his lip the way he likes in retaliation. 

There’s a brief pause in filming after that round, but not long enough for them to move, and she meets his eye prepared to tell him to lay off the grinding when she sees him blush and look away. Biting her lip and not even trying to suppress her massive grin, Billie lifts her hips off the cushions to press into him and confirm her hypothesis that, yes, he’s hiding a half stiffy in his jeans.

"Enjoying yourself?"

She’s beaming at him but he doesn’t notice, studying the ceiling as he clears his throat. Propping herself up on her elbows she takes pity on him, brushing her lips to his cheek before whispering in his ear.

"I am too."

He finally looks at her then, eyes wide, but before he can reply they’re rolling again, kissing and grasping more frantic than before.

Knowing that he’s turned on too only makes things worse, or possibly better, her mind is too cloudy to decide. But the knowledge of his desire spurs her on, prompting her to snake the hand against the side of the sofa — the one out of the shot — down his body until she can slip it under the waist of his jeans, scraping her nails along his bony hip. 

They both have to swallow their laughter when the director praises their performance, telling them they’re almost there. Billie swears she hears David mutter, “You’re telling me” against her cheek. 

It’s nearly not fun anymore by the next take because it’s not the zip of his trousers pressing into her but _him_  and she’s worried that they’ve taken it too far, that they’ve ripped out the stitching they made in the patchwork of their friendship. 

But at the same time she can’t help but chase her release, even knowing she’ll never get there, what with the cameras and the people and the overwhelming guilt. It’s not what she wants, either; if she got to choose how she’d have one more orgasm from him this wouldn’t be the way — especially since she’s fairly certain he’s not into it, not really. His body was always quick to respond to her touches and judging by the look on his face earlier that’s all this is.

The director only needs one more take and she thinks she can make it, even if she’ll have to bump up the evening’s scheduled wank to this afternoon. There’s a pause again for a lighting adjustment and she closes her eyes, willing the coil in her stomach away. That’s when she feels David’s breath on her ear.

"You close Bill?"

All she can do is nod, his words sending another wave of heat through her, but he seems to understand. 

"Thought so." He bites her ear and her breath hitches. "Remember after the wrap party?"

He leans back to meet her eyes and she knows what he’s getting it, running a hand through his tousled hair and smirking up at him.

The wrap party had moved from the pub to her hotel room but not long later she and David had ended up in his, the crucial bits of clothing discarded by the time they reached the mattress. They’d had hours of foreplay, sneaking kisses and copping feels all night, and were so worked up that he’d hardly pushed inside her when she came, with him following three short thrusts later. 

So when the director calls action and David starts to move, Billie can already feel the taut wire begin to fray, the tension washing through her body as his hips speed up, rutting into her again and again and again. Her lips break from his when it finally snaps, but he covers them with his own, muffling her whimper as she writhes beneath him. A few seconds later there’s a low sound at the back of his throat as he tenses, sparking the soothing aftershocks she’s feeling to spike into something more and making her gasp again. 

The director calls cut and production begins to wrap, but they stay where they are, ignoring distant whispers as they share a few soft kisses.

"Wasn’t expecting that," she says, surprised at the raspiness in her voice.

"Me neither." He props himself up on his forearms but doesn’t move off her just yet. "Glad this Doctor prefers a dark wash."

"Same here." Billie giggles and pushes him off of her, resting her head on his shoulder when they’re both sitting. "These yoga pants could do with a washing, though."

"Thought they were  _leggings_.”

"Whatever."

David stands and pulls her up with him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

"Missed hearing you like that," he says, breath on her ear making that coil tighten again.

"I hardly made any noise at all."

"Yeah, but I could imagine it," he says, voice low. "And felt it."

"Oh my god, what did we just do," Billie giggles, tucking her head under his chin as the realization hits her. 

"No one knew, don’t worry," he says, smoothing his hands over her back. "They loved our performance. I, on the other hand, thought it was quite understated."

Billie grins and leans back, crinkling her nose at him.

"Are you angling for a private showing, Mr. Tennant?"

"Aren’t I just."


End file.
